


Shutterspeed

by shaggydogstail



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Artist Sirius Black, Based on a True Story, Engagement, First Time, Love at First Sight, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Musician Remus Lupin, Photographer Sirius Black
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-08 11:48:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16428812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shaggydogstail/pseuds/shaggydogstail
Summary: ‘You’re perfect,’ said Remus. ‘Will you marry me?’Sirius blinked. ‘Come again?’‘Shit, did I say that out loud?’ Remus backed away, startled. ‘I um… what I meant to say… that is I should have said… Er. Would you like a cup of tea?’‘I’ll get back to you,’ said Sirius, already pulling out his phone as he walked away. He and Lily were going to have serious words. Words that involved her vetting procedures, and not the odd compulsion he’d felt to sayyes.





	Shutterspeed

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to my lovely beta reader, LuminousGloom.
> 
> Written for the Sirius Black Fest, 2018. My prompt was: “In the winter of 2011, photographer and furniture designer Ana Kraš flew from her home in Belgrade, Serbia, to Los Angeles, where she’d been sent by a European magazine to photograph artist-musician Devendra Banhart. Within five minutes, he asked her to marry him. Despite her initial impulse to flee, she stayed—and the two have been together ever since.”

It was a long ride from Brighton to the depths of Wales, five hours of motorways and drizzle, grey skies and twisting side roads. It was late afternoon by the time Sirius reached his destination, an incongruously modernist building near the foot of a mountain, just outside the unremarkable market town of Dolgellau. The sky hung low and dark, the air was damp, and 3 p.m. was a dismal hour, no time for anything worth doing.

The job he’d come for didn’t fill Sirius with excitement. Sometimes photography projects were fun, but this was a magazine photoshoot which, whatever he told Lily, he really did think was beneath him. Sirius was only stuck with it because she owed the editor of _Gather_ a favour, and he owed her one for being several months late turning in the final designs for the Selfridges commission she’d helped him win.

The house was ugly enough on the outside, one of those collections of ill balanced boxes that architects inexplicably love, and Sirius was certain what waited for him inside would be worse. A folk musician, really! Some sort of beardy-weirdy, no doubt dressed head-to-foot in Oxfam cast-offs and reeking of patchouli. The blurb Sirius had received from _Gather_ described Remus Lupin as “ _A bardic messenger from the edgelands, exploring the liminal spaces around the intersection of race and culture. The product and the defender of his own diverse heritage, Lupin synthesises Trinidadian rhythms and Welsh harmonies into a kaleidoscope of memory and sound, a sort of linguistic hauntology project that bubbles with possibilities_.” Sirius couldn’t imagine anything more tedious. And he was stuck with this bore for two days. He wondered if he ought to have brought ear plugs, to drown out the banjo playing.

Benjy, Culture Editor for _Gather_ , greeted Sirius at the door, and all but fell over himself to shake Sirius’ hand and tell him how lucky they were to have him. Which was true, of course, but Sirius wasn’t impressed to hear it. Benjy continued babbling as he took Sirius’ case and led him into the house. It was exactly the sort of blindingly white open-plan cavern Sirius had expected, too much glass and a wall of exposed brick in lieu of personality.

‘Sorry I can’t stop to chat,’ said Benjy, although he’d already said more than enough for Sirius’ liking. ‘I’m sure Remus will look after you.’

Sirius recognised Remus Lupin, hovering silently in the background, from his blurry Wikipedia picture, but he looked better in person. He wasn’t exactly handsome – he might even be somewhat plain, but Sirius liked the look of him. Ordinarily Sirius would consider “nice looking” to be a backhanded compliment, but Remus really was nice looking; autumn-hued and freckled, with kind eyes and a lop-sided smile.

At least looking at him was better than listening to Benjy prattling on.

‘I’m sure we’ll be fine,’ said Sirius.

 _Finally_ Benjy took the hint and left, not before telling Sirius again how talented he was (like Sirius didn’t already know). Sirius was left alone with Remus, standing on opposite sides of the kitchen island; another huge box, this time topped with what looked like some sort of reclaimed wood serving as a worktop.

‘Hey,’ said Sirius, leaning across the worktop. He realised that Benjy had never got around to introducing them. ‘I’m Sirius, by the way.’

‘You’re perfect,’ said Remus. ‘Will you marry me?’

Sirius blinked. ‘Come again?’

‘Shit, did I say that out loud?’ Remus backed away, startled. ‘I um… what I meant to say… that is I should have said… Er. Would you like a cup of tea?’

‘I’ll get back to you,’ said Sirius, already pulling out his phone as he walked away. He and Lily were going to have serious words. Words that involved her vetting procedures, and not the odd compulsion he’d felt to say _yes_.

#

‘Do you feel unsafe at all?’ asked Lily.

‘What? No.’ Sirius huffed and glanced back at Remus, who was shuffling about the kitchen, arranging biscuits on a plate. ‘Bloke looks like he might keel over in a strong wind.’

‘Well, if you’re sure,’ said Lily. Sirius could practically hear her frowning into her phone. ‘You know I’d never send you anywhere I thought might be dangerous, but it’s not like I’ve ever met this Lupin bloke. Maybe he’s all about luring unsuspecting photographers into his sex dungeon.’

‘Aw, Lils, don’t go getting my hopes up,’ said Sirius.

‘Just be careful,’ said Lily. ‘He’s probably just got foot-in-mouth disease, but if you think he might turn _Misery_ on you, get out.’

Sirius rolled his eyes. Somehow knowing Lily was concerned for his safety made him feel more relaxed. ‘Yes, Mum.’

‘I mean it,’ said Lily. ‘It won’t be any good for my reputation as an agent if you end up dead in the bathtub. And I’d have to tell James and Harry you aren’t coming back. Think of their sad little faces.’

Thinking about James’s sad little face cheered Sirius right up. ‘You know what, I don’t think you need to worry,’ said Sirius. ‘He’s just a bit of a weirdo. He’s a folk musician, we knew he was gonna be weird.’

‘OK. Call me if you have any problems,’ said Lily. ‘And don’t do anything to encourage him.’

‘To fall even more madly in love with me?’ Sirius grinned. ‘You know I don’t have to encourage people to do that.’

‘Goodbye, Sirius,’ said Lily. ‘Remember we’ve got a meeting at the Mayor’s office on Thursday. Try to make it that long without getting married or murdered.’

#

When Sirius walked back into the kitchen, Remus was rubbing the back of his neck, looking sheepish. It was awfully sweet.

‘I owe you an apology,’ said Remus. ‘What I said earlier… that wasn’t an appropriate way to greet someone.’

‘At least it was unusual,’ said Sirius. ‘Do you make a habit of proposing marriage to people you’ve just met?’

Remus laughed, an embarrassed half-laugh but he seemed to take it in good part. He really did have very pretty eyes. ‘Only the very attractive ones.’

‘Oh, smooth, Lupin,’ said Sirius. ‘How’s that working out for you?’

‘Well, some people might call the police but you only called your agent,’ said Remus. ‘I’m counting that as a minor success.’

‘Doesn’t sound like your standards are all that high,’ said Sirius. ‘I didn’t say “yes” did I?’

Remus’ gaze travelled up and down the length of Sirius’ body, taking him all in. ‘I reckon my standards are high enough,’ he said. ‘And you didn’t say “no” either.’

#

A cup of tea, a shower and a change of clothes later, Sirius was feeling much better. The weather was still miserably overcast, so he decided to put off shooting until the following day, and not having to work immediately always improved his mood. Besides, Remus Lupin was turning out to less weird that Sirius had expected. Actually, scratch that: Remus was weird, but in ways that Sirius found intriguing rather than horrifying. If he could just shake his pounding headache he might even enjoy hanging out with him.

‘I don’t suppose you’ve got any painkillers?’ asked Sirius, as he came back down from the guest room Remus had shown him to. ‘My head feels like there’s an angry goblin in there.’

Remus looked like he was about to say something, but apparently thought better of it. ‘Bathroom cabinet,’ he said. ‘Come with me, I’ll give you the grand tour while we’re at it.’

The interior of the house was much as Sirius had expected; carefully hip, lacking in life. If the politely detached tour guide routine was anything to go by, Remus didn’t care for it much either.

‘It was very nice of Gilderoy to let me stay here while I’m doing my residency at Tŷ Siamas,’ said Remus. ‘The décor isn’t exactly what I’d have chosen, but… do you want to see my music room?’

Sirius waggled his eyebrows. ‘I’ve never heard it called that before,’ he said. ‘Sure, lead on.’

The music room was at the back of the house, down some stairs, practically a basement. The walls were painted a deep, cheerful yellow, so unlike the white and pale greys throughout the rest of the house. The other major difference was that instead of holding a small, artfully curated collection of carefully arranged objects, the music room was full to bursting. Mismatched tables covered in sheet music, records, and books about music; huge, overstuffed chairs and sofas; and a vast collection of musical instruments all competed for space.

‘This is so cool,’ said Sirius as he looked around, idly plucking the strings of a nearby harp. ‘I don’t think I’ve even seen a lot of these before.’

‘I collect instruments. It’s the acceptable face of hoarding,’ said Remus. He picked up a rectangular instrument that looked something like a stumpy guitar. ‘This is a crwth, it’s a sort of lyre that you play with a bow. One of the legends about Crythor Du, or the Black Crwth Player, tells of a player who was attacked by a pack of wolves, but managed to escape by playing the crwth, furiously at first and then with a gentle and soothing melody.’

‘You get many wolves around here?’ asked Sirius.

‘Not often,’ said Remus. ‘But it’s good to be prepared.’

‘Aren’t you the little boy scout?’ said Sirius. ‘Show me what else you’ve got.’

Remus did, showing off his collection with a geeky enthusiasm that Sirius found oddly charming. He doubted many other people could catch his attention with an impromptu lecture about the pibgorn, tamboo bamboos, assorted brass instruments and Welsh bagpipes. The steel drums were more the sort of thing Sirius might normally appreciate, though his persistent headache put him off asking for a demonstration.

‘Head still bothering you?’ asked Remus sympathetically.

‘A bit,’ said Sirius. ‘I should’ve taken more rest stops on the way up. Long journeys take it out of me sometimes.’

‘The price you pay for looking cool,’ said Remus. ‘You know, massage can help with headaches. I’m pretty good at it.’

Sirius raised an eyebrow. ‘You want to massage me?’

‘Just to help with the pain.’ Remus held up his hands. ‘No funny business.’

It was a clear opportunity for Sirius to make a joke about it not being worthwhile, but he felt too embarrassed to make it. That wasn’t like him. Instead he just nodded, hoping to cover up the odd flash of nervousness the prospect of Remus touching him provoked. ‘That would be very nice.’

Remus sat him down on a plump, low backed sofa, and went to stand behind him.

‘I have bad circulation,’ Remus said by way of apology. ‘But you know what they say about cold hands.’

The tips of Remus’ fingers were actually pleasantly cool as they rubbed slow circles on Sirius’ forehead, and then gradually moved back across his head. Remus hummed to himself as he worked, nothing Sirius recognised, though it sounded like calypso. It was nice, a gentle counterpoint to the firm touch of Remus’ hands moving across his skin.

‘That feels really good,’ said Sirius, sighing as Remus’ thumbs rubbed his shoulders. Good was an understatement – Sirius bit his lip to keep from sighing too loud, not wanting to embarrass himself by making sex noises because Remus was touching his neck. It wasn’t erotic, as such, but there was something very intimate about the touch of Remus’ hands on his skin.

‘Better?’ asked Remus eventually.

‘Much,’ said Sirius. He did feel far more relaxed, though a little disappointed that Remus wasn’t touching him anymore. ‘Could you play something for me? I never actually listened to any of your music.’

‘Of course!’ Remus looked pleased to be asked, his face breaking into a grin. ‘Nothing too rowdy. I don’t want to give you another headache.’

Sirius was generally of the opinion that “rowdy” was the entire point of music, but he was willing to be guided by Remus this time. Remus selected a guitar out of a collection in the corner of the room, and then sat down on a stool close to Sirius. His face was a picture of quiet concentration as he tuned the instrument, his lips turned downwards and curls of hair tumbling over his eyes. Somehow Remus didn’t look so plain anymore.

When Remus started to play, it was unlike anything Sirius had heard before. His best guess was that Remus was performing a medley of Trinidadian nursery rhymes or lullabies – Sirius caught lyrics about fishermen and lost loves as Remus sang in a mix of English, French, and some sort of Creole. Sirius knew enough about music to recognise that Remus’ voice wasn’t technically perfect, but it had a gentle, lilting quality that Sirius found utterly beguiling.

The warm, golden light of the music room, the downy sofa, and the gentle melody of Remus’ voice combined so that Sirius felt cosy and relaxed, completely at home. Without thinking what he was doing he found himself lying back on the sofa, before drifting off into a comfortable sleep.

#

It was evening when Sirius returned to the kitchen, where he found Remus rummaging through the fridge.

‘Hey.’ Sirius announced his presence softly. ‘I hope I didn’t drive you away from practice with my snoring.’

‘Not at all,’ said Remus, turning to smile at Sirius. Even in the harsh light from the fridge he looked lovely. ‘But since we’d moved past me saying hello with a marriage proposal, I thought it would be a shame to make things awkward again by risking getting caught watching you sleep.’

‘I see,’ said Sirius. ‘So you _did_ watch me sleep?’

‘Only until you started snoring,’ answered Remus. ‘As a professional musician I do have to look after my hearing, you do understand.’

‘How dare you,’ said Sirius. ‘I don’t really snore. Do I?’

‘I don’t think so. I don’t really have enough data to say,’ said Remus. ‘Yet.’

Seemingly embarrassed by his own flirtation, Remus turned back to stare into the fridge, something that Sirius might have considered weak, but in Remus was endearing.

‘Are you hungry?’ asked Remus. ‘I could make some, uh… pasta?’

As Remus spoke he held out a tub of Sainsbury’s pasta sauce. At least it was fresh sauce not some long-life jar, but it still didn’t look very appetising. Sirius peered over Remus’ shoulder into the fridge, and saw that it was stocked with a number of similar pots, the odd jar, and only a limited supply of fresh ingredients.

‘Pasta’s fine,’ said Sirius. ‘Let me make the sauce though.’

‘Ugh, you cook as well?’ said Remus as he moved out of the way. ‘Like you weren’t perfect enough already.’

‘Don’t get too excited, you haven’t tasted it yet,’ said Sirius. ‘And I will use the fact that I cooked to saddle you with the washing up, because I hate it.’

‘That’s OK,’ said Remus. ‘I don’t mind washing up anyway.’

Sirius bit back a quip about team work or their obvious compatibility in favour of rummaging through the fridge. ‘Everything in here is processed or salad,’ he said. ‘Don’t you ever cook anything from scratch?’

‘No, why else do you think I’m so desperate to get married?’ joked Remus. ‘There’s only so long you can go disguising ready meals as real food by sticking a bit of salad on the side.’

Arms full of tomatoes, garlic, parsley, parmesan, and a moderately dejected half lemon, Sirius turned back to Remus, knocking the fridge door shut with his bum. ‘You don’t cook at all?’

‘I have two specialities,’ said Remus. ‘Eggs, and Things On Toast.’

‘Scrambled eggs on toast is one dish,’ said Sirius. ‘And calling it a speciality is pushing things.’

‘Rude,’ said Remus. ‘I can also do cheese on toast, beans on toast, and sardines on toast. With bananas on toast for afters.’

‘I stand corrected,’ said Sirius. ‘You’re quite the undergraduate gourmet.’

Remus pulled a face at him. It was extremely childish, and very cute. ‘I hope your culinary skills are better than your insults.’

‘Oh, I’ve got all sorts of skills,’ said Sirius, winking back at him. Remus rolled his eyes, but Sirius was pretty sure he didn’t mind really.

It was easy to talk to Remus, and they fell into joking and teasing each other while Sirius cooked. Remus had the good sense to keep out from under Sirius’ feet, waiting to be asked for help finding a colander or passing a glass of wine. When they sat down to eat Remus praised Sirius’ culinary skills fulsomely and asked intelligent and interested questions about Sirius’ work, admitting he’d spent the time Sirius had been napping checking out Sirius’ portfolio.

‘Benji told me you were a photographer,’ said Remus. ‘He didn’t mention all the other stuff you do as well - sculpture, design work, public art…’

‘Regular Da Vinci, me.’ Sirius grinned back at him.

‘Modest too,’ said Remus. ‘Seriously, though is there a reason for switching between different fields? It’s very impressive, but it seems like it would be a lot of hard work.’

Sirius took a sip of wine as he considered his response. ‘Well, the sensible answer - the one Lily always tells people when she’s representing me - is that operating in different mediums keeps my work fresh, and allows me to bring new and challenging perspectives to each new project,’ he said. ‘I  also get bored easily.’

‘Well, you’re obviously very talented,’ said Remus.

Sirius shrugged in _yeah, aren’t I brilliant?_ gesture, but he did feel pleased that Remus thought so highly of his work. Remus clearly paid attention, as he went on to quiz Sirius about a number of his previous projects, even fetching a pencil and paper so Sirius could sketch the workings of the illusion fountain he’d designed to make the sword Excalibur appear to float out above a pond.

A cautionary voice at the back of Sirius’ mind – one that sounded a bit like Lily – reminded Sirius that he didn’t really know Remus, and he shouldn’t get carried away with all this cosy domesticity, but a louder voice – rather more like James – told him just to enjoy himself. There was never any real doubt which one he was going to listen to.

#

A few glasses of wine and a lot of talking and flirting later, Sirius was feeling pleasantly fuzzy around the edges, and uncertain how much longer he’d be able to resist the almost constant temptation to touch Remus. Every time Remus licked his lips, every coy glance and shy smile he directed at Sirius, every time he pulled back his hand like he was stopping himself reaching out to Sirius, all the times it seemed they might be about to kiss but didn’t; so many tiny moments all heightened the prickling sense of anticipation that had been building in Sirius since the moment he’d laid eyes on Remus. It was no longer as question of _if_ , simply _how_ and _when_.

They went back to the music room for an impromptu music lesson, where Remus darted about as he told Sirius about the history of each instrument, with rambling digressions about everything from the Mabinogion to the Canboulay Riots. His enthusiasm was delightful; Sirius was entranced by how Remus’ eyes shone, and how he talked with his hands when he was excited.

‘Show me how to play the steel pan,’ said Sirius when Remus offered him the choice of instruments. ‘I wanna make some noise.’

‘Thought you’d be a loud one,’ said Remus. ‘C’mon, it’s easy.’

Sirius soon discovered that, as with most percussion instruments, making a lot of noise was easy; making anything that sounded recognisably musical was more of a challenge. He would have been happy to watch Remus play, but Remus laughed and insisted he knew Sirius could do it; Sirius might have been feeling a little bit merry and more than a little bit frisky, but he never was one to back down from a challenge.

He was doing well enough until Remus came to stand behind him, a gentle touch on Sirius’ forearm, his breath warm on Sirius’ neck. Sirius tried, he really tried, to concentrate on everything Remus had told him about the circle of fifths, but it was hard to keep a steady hand when he could feel the heat from Remus’ body against his back.

‘Well done, you’re a natural,’ said Remus proudly and that, of all things, was what made Sirius lose it. He seemed to trip over his own hands, and whacked himself on the knuckles with a panstick.

‘Shit!’

‘Let me see,’ said Remus, reaching out and grabbing Sirius’ hand. ‘I’m sorry, I distracted you. Does it hurt?’

‘It’s fine, really,’ said Sirius. He wasn’t used to getting so flustered.

‘But you’re an artist!’ said Remus, clearly concerned. ‘Isn’t a hand injury the worst thing that can happen to an artist?’

‘It’s OK, it’s my right hand anyway…’

‘Oh god, I’ve ruined your career, I am a _monster_!’

‘… and I’m left-handed.’

Remus glanced up at him sheepishly. ‘Of course you are,’ he said. They both knew he’d spent enough time watching Sirius to have noticed. ‘Still, let me…’

He kept hold of Sirius’ hand, and suddenly that simple contact seemed wildly, absurdly erotic. Sirius’ breath caught as Remus ran his thumb across Sirius’ knuckles, the movement over each dip and bump setting sparks up Sirius’ arm, like crackles of static electricity. Slowly, Remus turned Sirius’ hand over, using the tip of his finger to trace feather light circles around Sirius’ palm, before flexing each one of Sirius’ fingers back and forth in turn.

‘Everything seems to be intact,’ said Remus, his voice low. He still didn’t let go, dipping to press a soft kiss to the back of Sirius’ hand. When he raised his head to look at Sirius his eyes were wide, pupils dark with desire, and his lips barely parted.

The last of Sirius’ resolve shattered and fell away like glass. He leant into Remus, pressing their mouths together in a fast, messy kiss. Remus returned the kiss eagerly, his lips parting to grant Sirius access to the lush warmth of his mouth.

‘I’ve wanted to do that since I got here,’ admitted Sirius between kisses.

‘So what took you so long?’ asked Remus.

‘Dunno,’ said Sirius. He kissed a path down Remus’ neck, running his tongue of the light scrap of stubble before nipping at the soft skin on Remus’ shoulder. ‘Reckon there must be something very wrong with me.’

‘You look alright to me. Although…’ Remus paused and drew back, gazing up at Sirius. His lips were parted, plump and damp, and he looked at Sirius like he could swallow him whole. ‘You did hurt your hand. You’re breathing heavily. And you’re really hot.’

‘It’s sweet that you’re concerned for my health,’ said Sirius. ‘I don’t think it’s medical attention I need.’

‘It’s awfully late to be calling a doctor,’ said Remus. ‘I have a first aid certificate.’

Sirius laughed softly, pulling Remus closer. ‘Of course you do, you adorable little nerd,’ he said. ‘So, you wanna give me a quick once over?’

Remus leant back, grinning. ‘I was thinking thorough, more than quick,’ he said. ‘And if you play your cards right, I’ll do it more than once.’

Well, Sirius wasn’t about to argue with that. He allowed himself to be lead to the warm comfort of Remus’ bedroom, where Remus undressed Sirius with deliberate slowness.

‘Let me,’ said Remus, batting Sirius’ hands away when they went to his belt. ‘I want to take care of you.’

It was a generous offer, and Sirius was happy to acquiesce. He lay back on the bed, shivering with pleasure as Remus peeled off his clothes, pressing soft kisses to each newly exposed area of skin.

‘Does that hurt?’ asked Remus as his lips ghosted across Sirius’ shoulder. ‘How about this?’

‘Oh, that’s good,’ said Sirius.

Remus moved back, kneeling over him. ‘I don’t know, you’re still breathing heavily. I think I should take off your trousers.’

‘I’m sure you know what’s best,’ said Sirius, diligently raising his hips so that Remus could pull down his jeans.

‘You are so fucking beautiful,’ said Remus, gazing down at Sirius with awe-struck tenderness. Sirius had heard it before, had both preened and yawned at admiration of his body, but it felt like something more this time. Remus, he suspected, was not prone to flattery.

Sirius reached up to hook his hand behind Remus’ neck, pulling him down for another long, sweet kiss. ‘You’re not so bad yourself,’ he said. ‘But you’re wearing far too many clothes.’

‘Can’t have you feeling uncomfortable,’ said Remus. He scooted back to tug first his jumper, then his sensible white vest over his head, revealing skinny ribs, walnut skin, and a sparse scattering of dark curls. He had to climb off the bed to take off his trousers – which were corduroy for fuck’s sake, how the hell did Remus look so sexy in that? – and shimmied out of his boxers. At last Sirius caught a glimpse of Remus’ cock, thick and hard as it jutted out above a pair of heavy balls. The sight of it made Sirius lick his lips instinctively; he wanted Remus’ cock, wanted it in his hand, his mouth, his arse, wanted it so much he felt weak with hunger.

‘Get back here,’ he said hoarsely, reaching out to pull Remus back towards him.

Remus huffed in mock-indignation, muttering something about _needy men_ but soon he was back on Sirius, kissing him over and over as he pressed the full lengths of their bodies together.

‘So,’ said Sirius in between kisses. ‘Does this mean I’ve passed the physical? Body all in working order?’

‘I think…’ Remus drew back slightly and looked at Sirius, his expression fond. ‘I think I was right the first time. You’re perfect.’

Sirius grinned and lifted his hips, parting his knees in a blatant invitation. ‘Perfectly fuckable?’

‘I think so,’ said Remus. ‘But it’d like to find out for sure.’

It gave Sirius all sorts fanciful notions that Remus was playing him like one of his instruments, the way Remus touched him with deft precision, with his face a picture of solemn concentration as his fingers slid in and out of Sirius.

‘You’re beautiful, so beautiful, so perfect,’ murmured Remus as he pushed his cock into Sirius’ slick and wanting hole. He was slow, unbelievably patient, and Sirius rocked his hips up to meet him, always wanting more.

The whole thing felt euphorically good; the thick thrust of Remus’ cock fucking him in deep, deliberate movements; the soft cadence of Remus’ voice, murmuring a stream of sweet, adoring words about how gorgeous Sirius was, how much Remus wanted him; every teasing touch as Remus’ fingers caressed Sirius’ body, stroking his chest and thighs, gripping his buttocks, teasing his cock.

‘I’ve never seen anyone as lovely as you,’ said Remus, gazing down at Sirius with undisguised adoration. ‘I can’t believe I get to fuck you.’

‘I can’t believe you’re not doing it _harder_ ,’ said Sirius.

‘Is that what you want?’ said Remus. He fell forward, arms planted firmly either side of Sirius’ chest. ‘Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you.’

‘Want you,’ said Sirius, the words coming out in a desperate gasp. ‘Aw fuck, Remus, I want you so much.’

Remus kept on, pounding him as Sirius begged him to go deeper, harder, and more. His breathing grew ragged, movements jerky, and his stomach rubbed against Sirius’ cock. Sirius gasped and bucked, gripping hold of Remus’ arms as his orgasm hit him, pleasure coursing through his body. He was still shaking when Remus’ back stiffened, he called out Sirius’ name, and his cock pulsed deep inside of him.

After, Remus kept fussing Sirius, fiddling with his hair and running soothing fingers up and down Sirius’ arms. It felt nice, sort of comforting; snuggling up beside Remus was very nearly perfect.

‘You OK?’ asked Remus softly. ‘Not too cold?’

Sirius propped up his head. ‘No. Actually, if you wanted to open a window…’

‘Definitely.’ Remus was up and at the window in a moment. ‘I closed it earlier because of the rain. A cold room’s the only way to sleep.’

‘You’re so right,’ said Sirius as Remus climbed back into bed beside him. The mattress beneath him was deep and soft, and the duvet Remus pulled over both of them was just the right weight. Best of all was Remus tucked in beside him, with his hard elbows and soft hair, the reassuring beat of his heart, low and steady as he allowed Sirius to rest on his bony shoulder.

Sirius yawned widely. It really had been the most extraordinary day and he still felt a little overwhelmed, like something momentous had happened and couldn’t yet quite comprehend it.

‘None of this makes any sense,’ mused Sirius, running an idle finger through the sparse hair on Remus’ chest.

Remus laughed softly. ‘I don’t suppose it does,’ he said. ‘Be sure and let me know if you figure it out.’

#

Morning brought weak sunlight and the distant sound of birdsong. Sirius woke feeling refreshed and content, well-rested despite having his sleep interrupted by Remus waking him in the middle of the night for round two. And round three, Sirius remembered with a smug smile.

‘Morning, gorgeous.’

Sirius looked up to see Remus walking into the bedroom, wearing a grandad-ish dressing gown and carrying a tea tray.

‘Do you ever sleep?’ asked Sirius, scooting across to made room for Remus to sit down beside him. ‘I’m starting to wonder if I’ve been seduced by a vampire.’

‘Cheek of you. Vampires are so passé,’ said Remus, sliding the tray onto Sirius’ lap. ‘I was making you breakfast; toast _and_ an egg. See how highly I think of you.’

In front of Sirius sat a poached egg perched atop two slices of lightly buttered granary toast, accompanied by a glass of orange juice and a cup of coffee.

‘My apologies,’ said Sirius, twisting to press a kiss to Remus’ cheek. ‘You’re clearly a very hospitable incubus.’

‘Well, that is the most rational explanation,’ said Remus. ‘Or it could just be that there’s a really hot bloke in my bed and I want to impress him.’

Sirius grinned around a mouthful of toast. ‘You impressed me enough last night,’ he said. ‘Unless this display of domestic talents is your way of working up to another marriage proposal.’

‘Damn, am I that transparent?’ Remus laughed and helped himself to a sip of Sirius’ coffee. ‘See, if we were married I’d make you breakfast every day. You’d probably have to take care of all the other meals though.’

‘I’m not falling for that,’ said Sirius. ‘No-one poaches eggs on a daily basis; don’t try to overplay your hand.’

‘Weekends then,’ said Remus. ‘Anniversaries. Your birthday. Weekdays I’ll pour your cereal.’

‘And they say romance is dead,’ said Sirius, wiping up the last of the egg yolk with a toast crust. ‘What about when you’re on tour, though? Are you going to leave me to fend for myself, with only a jar of jam and a good luck note to help me out of bed of a morning?’

‘I’ve been thinking of giving it up, actually,’ said Remus. ‘Touring. Recording. At least as my main job.’

‘Why?’ demanded Sirius. ‘You’re brilliant!’

He’d never seen Remus play properly – it would never even have occurred to him that he might want to, but that wasn’t the point. Sirius was sure that Remus _was_ brilliant all the same.

Remus gave him a fond smile. ‘That’s very sweet of you. But I never planned on being a full-time musician forever. What I most want is be a teacher.’

‘Fucking hell, not another one,’ said Sirius. Noticing Remus’ confused expression he continued, ‘My best mate’s a teacher – a PE teacher, would you believe. At least teaching music is cooler than _PE_.’

‘There is that,’ agreed Remus. ‘I really want to, though. School meant a lot to me when I was a kid – when I was finally well enough to go.’

‘Are you sick?’ asked Sirius, suddenly concerned. Was there something wrong with Remus? Was he ill? He didn’t look ill. A bit skinny, but from what Sirius had seen he was strong as an ox. Of course, you can’t always tell right away, maybe there was something seriously wrong with Remus, maybe…

‘It’s OK.’ Remus’ calm voice broke Sirius out of his reverie. ‘I was sick a lot when I was a child but I’m fine now. I won’t bore you with all the details, but for a long time I wasn’t well enough to go to school and it was horrible, really boring and lonely. My parents did their best, but being stuck at home alone was nearly as bad as being ill. When I finally got to go to school it was exciting; I could meet people, make friends, do normal stuff. It changed my life.’

Sirius listened to Remus’ story with a small frown of concern, slightly taken aback by how sad the thought of Remus being sick and lonely made him feel. He wished he’d known Remus back then, been able to make his life a little bit brighter.

‘I suppose, when you tell it that way school doesn’t sound so bad,’ he said. ‘Friends are the best part. Mostly I found school pretty boring, except art.’

‘Of course, you artists are all rebels and dossers, aren’t you?’ said Remus. ‘How many times did you get suspended for sniffing glue round the back of the bike sheds?’

‘Just the once, and it was cocaine, actually,’ said Sirius. ‘I went to boarding school.’

‘Fancy. That must have made skiving off harder,’ said Remus. ‘Although, from checking out your portfolio I could see you’re not one for following the easy route. Somehow I don’t think you were hanging around the art block out of laziness.’

‘Careful, everyone knows that artistic indolence is far cooler than being hard worker. And I can be plenty lazy about things I don’t want to do,’ said Sirius, remembering with a twinge of guilt that he hadn’t really wanted to the do the photoshoot which brought him to Remus. ‘I was good at most subjects but I didn’t care about them. Getting A’s was helpful because it meant teachers cut me some slack about shit up got up to outside of lessons, but it didn’t mean anything to be because it was just… easy.’

Remus laughed softly. ‘So you were a child prodigy?’ he said. ‘Why am I not surprised.’

‘I don’t know about that,’ said Sirius. Did Remus think he was showing off? ‘At the time I thought anyone who couldn’t do it was a bit thick, but I retrospect I suppose I was just lucky.’

He shot a sideways glance at Remus, relieved to see he looked more amused than disapproving.

‘What about art?’ said Remus. ‘Was that easy too?’

‘Well, I was good at it,’ said Sirius. ‘But I felt like I could be _better_ , you know? No matter what marks I got I was never satisfied – I always felt like I could have done more, that my next piece might be the one that’s just right. I still feel that way now, actually.’

It’s not something he’d ever admitted before, despite the art magazine interviews and university application essays that had asked the question many times before. Remus was just so much easier to talk to, Sirius didn’t mind opening up to him. If the thoughtful expression on Remus’ face was anything to go by, he understood as well.

‘So you like a challenge?’ said Remus.

‘I’m not the only one,’ said Sirius. ‘You’re the one who tries to talk strangers into marrying you.’

‘Point,’ conceded Remus. ‘Although I’m starting to think talking you into matrimony is going to be much less of a challenge than I originally thought.’

Sirius laughed and pushed the breakfast tray out of the way, making space for him to turn and kiss Remus. ‘Maybe,’ he said as he moved around, straddling Remus’ lap. ‘Maybe I’m just enjoying your attempts at persuasion.’

Snaking his arms around Sirius’ waist, Remus pulled him close. ‘Well, that’s a good start,’ he said as Sirius kissed his neck. ‘I’m glad I didn’t scare you off.’

‘I don’t scare easily,’ said Sirius.

Whatever Remus might have had to say about that, he was interrupted by the sound of Sirius’ phone ringing. Recognising James’ ringtone, he pulled away from Remus with muttered apologies.

‘I really should get that,’ he said, looking around the room and wondering well the hell his jeans had landed.

‘Of course.’ Remus slipped out of bed and located Sirius’ phone in an instant, as if by magic. ‘I’ll leave you to it.’

Sirius watched him go, just a little reluctantly, before answering the phone. ‘Prongs, I’ve not been gone a day, you can’t be pining for me already.’

‘Lily was worried,’ said James. ‘I just wanted to check you weren’t being held hostage by some crazed folk singer.’

Remembering his call to Lily the day before caused Sirius a squirm of embarrassment. ‘I’m not being held hostage,’ he said. ‘And he’s not a crazed anything.’

‘You sure?’ James sounded sceptical. ‘He sounds like a right weirdo if you ask me.’

‘What? No he isn’t,’ said Sirius. ‘He’s actually very nice. He’s interesting, and funny, and he’s really kind – ’

‘What’s he like in bed?’ interrupted James.

Sirius flopped back on the pillow, phone still attached to his ear. ‘ _So_ good, oh my god, you would not believe the things this bloke can do with his – ’

‘I KNEW IT!’ James cut him off again. ‘I knew you’d bastard gone and shagged him, you hopeless tart. Honestly, Padfoot, I can’t leave you alone for five minutes.’

‘Sorry, I didn’t realise I needed permission from you to get laid,’ said Sirius. ‘Do you want to watch as well?’

James made an exasperated sigh. Sirius could just picture him, wiping the bridge of his nose, shoving his glasses askew, and smiled fondly. ‘You can’t blame me for worrying,’ he said. ‘Who proposes to someone they’ve just met?’

‘It was one ill-judged chat up line,’ said Sirius irritably. ‘Not like you didn’t try hundreds on them on Lily and she still puts up with you.’

There was a long silence on the line, enough for Sirius to wish that James didn’t know him quite so well.

‘Padfoot, are you thinking about saying yes?’ asked James. ‘Please tell me you’re not going to elope with some dude you only met five minutes ago.’

‘Don’t be thick, you know I wouldn’t get married without you,’ said Sirius. He frowned, worrying a loose thread from the duvet cover between his fingers. ‘I really like him. He’s just… I’ve never met anyone like him.’

James let out a low whistle. ‘Wow, you got it bad,’ he said. ‘OK, I suppose he must have something going for him to get you like this. Just be careful, yeah?’

‘Thanks,’ said Sirius, relieved. James would like Remus, when he met him, and Lily. Wouldn’t they? Of course they would, how could anyone not like Remus, he was perfect. Sirius would make sure they liked him.

#

Later, Sirius found Remus in the music room. He was curled up on the enormous squishy sofa, peering at a laptop.

‘Hey,’ said Sirius, greeting Remus with a kiss as he sat down beside him. ‘What’s this – updating your wedding Pinterest board?’

‘You’re the artist, you should do the Pinterest board,’ said Remus. ‘I’ll take care of the Spotify playlist.’

‘You sound awfully confident for a man who’s not yet engaged,’ said Sirius.

Remus flashed him an awkward half smile. ‘I have an idea,’ he said. ‘Although I can’t decide if it’s charmingly quirky or embarrassingly weird.’

‘Nothing about you could be embarrassing,’ insisted Sirius. ‘Tell me all about your brilliant plan.’

Still looking sheepish, Remus turned the laptop so that Sirius could read the screen. A website called “Find Your Lucky” offered a Marriage Compatibility Calculator. Sirius laughed.

‘An internet quiz, really?’ he said.

‘Yeah, sorry, I’m ridiculous,’ said Remus. He raised his hand to close the laptop screen, but Sirius stopped him.

‘Completely ridiculous, I love it,’ said Sirius. ‘C’mon, let’s settle this like 13-year-old girls on a sleepover.’

The calculator was simple, only requiring their names and dates of birth before providing compatibility ratings in six different categories. When the scores popped up, they ranged from 94 to 100 per cent compatible, including a 99 per cent general marriage compatibility.

‘Did you cheat?’ asked Sirius.

‘No,’ said Remus. ‘Not that I wasn’t prepared to – obviously I tried the test on my own before I showed you, but it turned out it wasn’t necessary.’

‘So you _would have_ cheated?’ confirmed Sirius, pleased to hear it. ‘Although, since it only used our names and dates of birth, that might have been tricky to get away with long term.’

Remus nodded. ‘I was prepared to celebrate my birthday on the wrong day if it came to it,’ he said. ‘Or change my middle name to Elvis, whatever it took.’

He said it jokingly, but Sirius felt the force of something real behind his words. ‘You’d do that for me?’ he asked.

Remus looked at him, his face a picture of bewildered yearning. ‘I think I’d do just about anything for you,’ he said. ‘You’re like a walking rollercoaster, you know that? Meeting you has been the most exciting and the most disruptive experience of my life. I’ve never proposed to anyone before – if anything, half my exes reckon I’m a commitment-phobe and I thought love at first sight was a silly, romantic myth. Then you arrived in my kitchen, being all sexy, and brilliant, and charming; you changed everything.’

‘I liked to think love at first sight was real, I just never felt it,’ said Sirius. ‘A few days ago I thought I’d been love three times, but nothing like that.’

‘And now?’ Remus looked tentative, like he was afraid to ask the question. Sirius appreciated his bravery in asking it anyway. He leant towards Remus, until their faces were almost touching.

‘And now I know,’ Sirius spoke quietly, slowly, with the memory of his past loves fading into petty trifles. ‘I’ve only fallen in love once.’

Remus’ lips were on his the moment the last word left them, soft and insistent. Sirius melted into the kiss, placing his hand on Remus’ shoulder as though anchoring himself.

‘Just to be clear,’ said Remus, pulling back slightly. ‘You did mean with me, right?’

‘Yes, you daft git.’ Sirius laughed, feeling giddy. He took a moment to really look at Remus, drinking in the sight of him; soft curls that were all mussed up on one side, chestnut brown eyes, and broad, soft lips, just waiting for Sirius to kiss them again. Sirius thought he’d never tire of looking at him. ‘It’s you.’

Glancing downwards, half bashful, Remus laughed. ‘I love you,’ he told Sirius.

‘Ask me again.’

‘What?’

‘You know,’ said Sirius. ‘Ask me again.’

‘Right. Yes. Wait a minute, I’ll just…’ Remus fidgeted around, moving the laptop out of harm’s way before taking far too long to turn back to Sirius. He took a deep breath, finally asking clearly and deliberately, ‘will you marry me?’

For possibly the first time in his life, Sirius found himself unable to speak. He could only nod.

‘Yes?’ Remus looked elated, like he couldn’t quite believe his luck. ‘Is that a yes? You’ll marry me?’

‘Yeah, why not?’ Sirius found his voice at last. ‘I’ve never been married before, it might be fun.’

‘That’s not…’ Remus broke off, grinning. ‘That’s not taking the institution of marriage very seriously, you know.’

‘Says that man who used an internet quiz to talk me into saying yes,’ said Sirius.

‘But you did say yes,’ Remus reminded him.

Sirius wrapped his arms around Remus’ neck, and kissed him again. ‘Fuck, yes.’

Remus pulled him closer still. ‘That too.’

#

It rained again the day Sirius was due to leave, a constant drizzle that turned the surrounding landscape into a sad grey watercolour. Lacking the motivation to get on with his packing, Sirius stood staring out the window into the sodden gloom.

‘You don’t want to go out in that,’ said Remus, coming up behind Sirius and wrapping his arms around Sirius’ waist. ‘You’ll get soaked.’

‘I should leave earlier because I have to travel slowly,’ said Sirius. ‘I’m meeting Lily in London at three – we’re seeing someone from the Mayor’s office about a commission to design drinking fountains as public art.’

‘You’re so clever,’ said Remus. ‘I’d probably just nip down to B&Q for a tap.’

Sirius chuckled, thinking how much that sounded like something James might say – or a more complimentary version of it at any rate. Before he had time to respond the house was filled with the trilling sound of an obnoxiously avant-garde doorbell ringing.

‘Give me a minute,’ said Remus, pressing a quick kiss to Sirius’ cheek. ‘I’ll be right back.’

He hurried off, leaving Sirius to his reluctant packing. Since he hadn’t spent more than half-an-hour in “his” room it ought to have been an easy task, but his lack of motivation made it drag. Glancing at his unopened camera bag, he realised he hadn’t taken a single photograph since he’d arrived, a new low point in professional responsibility. He suspected that getting Lily to see the romance of it might be a tough sell.

‘Hey.’ Remus appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame. He looked rumpled and wonderful, and Sirius really wanted to throw his case on the floor and drag Remus into bed.

‘Hey, you,’ he said instead. ‘Exciting call, was it? You’re a bit far out for Jehovah’s Witnesses to come calling.’

‘It was my friend, Dorcas,’ said Remus. ‘You’d like her, she’s an artist too. She makes jewellery.’

Sirius startled, but said nothing. He kept very still as Remus took a step towards him.

‘I texted her last night. She really is a very good friend, and I owe her big time because I’m pretty sure she hasn’t slept.’ Remus smiled awkwardly. ‘Anyway, I asked her to. This is for you.’

Remus reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box. He presented it to Sirius, arm outstretched, and Sirius had the sneaking suspicion that Remus was staring at his ear because he couldn’t quite look him in the eye. It was so obvious what Remus was giving him, so thoughtful and bold, and somehow the fact that he was still shy about it made Sirius love him just a little bit more.

‘Thank you,’ said Sirius, not sure what else to say. It took all his effort to keep a steady hand as he accepted the box from Remus. He wasn’t sure he was ready to open it. ‘I haven’t got anything for you.’

‘It doesn’t matter. I wanted you to have it,’ said Remus. ‘You might not even like it, you don’t have to keep it if you don’t, I can get you another one or you don’t even have to… sorry. I’m babbling again aren’t I?’

Sirius smiled at him fondly, and then looked down at the box. The shape and size meant it clearly held a ring, but it was plain and white, giving no clues the style of the contents. Sirius took a deep breath and opened it: the ring was a freeform band of black and gold metal with rustic, uneven edges, studded with irregular stones; it reminded Sirius of geodes or layers of rock sediment. Black gems and flecks of gold glittered in the pale morning light.

‘The band is silver and gold,’ explained Remus. ‘Welsh gold, it’s mined not far away. Those are black diamonds – carbonado, it’s called, some people think they come from stars. I thought, because of your name… but if you don’t like it, it’s OK, I don’t mind.’

Blinking rapidly, Sirius kept staring that the ring. He didn’t think he’d ever seen anything more beautiful. ‘It’s perfect,’ he said in a hoarse whisper. ‘Thank you.’

Remus’ face broke into a grin, relief lighting up his features. ‘You’re sure you like it?’

‘Yes!’ said Sirius. He handed the box back to Remus. ‘You should put it on me.’

Sensibly, Remus didn’t try going down on one knee or anything daft like that, which was for the best because Sirius doubted he could’ve stopped himself making a crude joke, and just this once he didn’t want to spoil the moment. Instead he just watched in rapt silence as Remus fumbled with the ring and finally slid it onto Sirius’ hand.

‘We’re really going to do this, aren’t we?’ said Sirius.

Remus nodded, like he was every bit as amazed by it as Sirius was. ‘Yup,’ he confirmed. ‘Pretty sure I can sue you for breach of promise if you try to back out now.’

‘Never,’ promised Sirius. ‘I’ll get one for you too. Make you one, or at least design it. Maybe your friend could help me.’

‘Dorcas is dying to meet you,’ said Remus. ‘I want to show you off to all my friends. Especially now I’ve slapped a reserved sign on you.’

Sirius laughed, thinking of Lily and James. They’d be shocked, of course, by how quickly he’d become engaged, but Sirius was sure once they met Remus they’d understand. ‘I think my friends are going to be pretty impressed with you too.’

‘Speaking of which, I should let you finish packing,’ said Remus. ‘I don’t want to get off on the wrong foot by making you late for your meeting.’

After another long and lingering kiss he was gone, leaving Sirius still shell shocked at he stared down that the ring glinting on his finger. James teased him about his inability to think things through enough as it was, and he’d certainly tease Sirius mercilessly about this, but Sirius knew that Remus was one thing he didn’t have to think through. It felt right, and Sirius knew in his guts that marrying Remus Lupin was the best and most important thing he could do with his life.

In fact, that was a very good point. Sirius pulled out his phone and took a picture of his engagement ring – the first photo he’d taken since his arrival – and sent it to Lily, with a brief message asking her to cover for him at their meeting. Then he turned his phone off, because James would need some time to calm down before he spoke to Sirius.

‘So I was thinking,’ announced Sirius as he strolled back into the kitchen. ‘Since I’m about to become a married man, I should revise my priorities.’

Remus was standing at the kitchen island, a mug of cooling coffee in one hand and the laptop open in front of him. ‘Oh?’

‘For instance, seeing my future husband play and meeting some of his friends is much more important than talking about how to make a fancy tap. And there’s so much to do planning a wedding,’ said Sirius. ‘Venues, guest lists, those little bags of sugared almonds that I don’t quite get the point of.’

‘I can’t help you with the almonds,’ said Remus, reaching out to pull Sirius close to him. ‘But I’m a big fan of proper preparation.’

‘Don’t I know it, you impossible tease.’ Sirius wrapped his arms around Remus, happy just to be close to him. ‘I texted Lily to say I can’t make the meeting this afternoon. Thought I might stay here a few more days. If that’s OK with you.’

‘Having you around is always OK with me,’ said Remus. ‘I have to play three nights, but I could get someone else to cover my workshops next week so I can come down to Brighton with you.’

Sirius rocked his hips against Remus. ‘Hm, you know I’ll be happy to give you a ride.’

‘Lucky me,’ said Remus. ‘Sounds like an excellent way to get to my new home.’

They hadn’t discussed where they were going to live; something Sirius belatedly realised was a significant oversight. He felt sure he’d travel to the ends of the Earth to be with Remus, but the thought of living far away from the Potters was deeply troubling.

‘You don’t mind moving?’ asked Sirius, a touch guiltily.

‘I knew you wouldn’t want to, and I’ve been touring and moving for so long it’s not like I’m properly settled anywhere.’ Remus flashed him a reassuring smile. ‘Besides, I’ve been doing some research, and I’ve just emailed an enquiry about applying for a PGCE in Music at Sussex Uni.’

‘We should get a house,’ said Sirius, struck with inspiration by Remus’ forward planning. He had a perfectly nice flat, but suddenly felt he’d outgrown it. ‘A proper house, with room for all your instruments and space for me to have a studio at home. Oh, and we’ll need a garden.’

Remus looked faintly startled. ‘What, for kids?’

‘I was thinking more for dogs. A dog, at least.’

‘Definitely.’ Remus nodded, visibly relieved. ‘I love dogs.’

Good, that was good. Sirius could picture clearly a future of cosy domesticity; spending his days working in a home studio and taking the dogs for long walks along the beach while Remus was at school, then getting Remus to play for him as he cooked dinner. Weekend trips out on the bike and long lazy Sunday mornings in bed. Remus made comfort and contentment seem exciting in ways that Sirius had never known possible.

‘I love you,’ said Sirius, tilting Remus’ head up to kiss him softly.

‘I’m glad we’re so much in agreement,’ said Remus. ‘Just to be clear though, we’re not both avoiding work responsibilities _just_ to plan seating arrangements and discuss house prices?’

Sirius frowned. ‘Not just that. We could also bunk off to shag.’

‘Perfect,’ said Remus. ‘I do think it’s important to strike a balance in these things, don’t you?’

‘Oh yes,’ Sirius agreed happily. ‘I do.’

**Author's Note:**

> Find Your Lucky is a real website and they do have a [marriage compatibility test](http://www.findyourlucky.com/marriage-compatibility/results.html). The scores mentioned are exactly what you get entering both characters names and dates of birth based on the books and comments by JKR. Going with the popular fanon of adding "Orion" as a middle name for Sirius makes their "Public Persona Compatibility" plummet from 96% to 19%, but has no impact on any other score. I'm sure this in no way reflects the reliability of this very scientific approach. Ahem.


End file.
